Chapter 11: The Calm Before the Next Dumb Thing

The elevator doors opened with a quiet chime. Reina stepped out first, humming some random tune, followed by Lunaria, who was trying to sniff the air for incoming fun. I followed last, mentally preparing myself to interact with strangers before lunch.

In the center of the lobby with tall ceilings, soft lights, and too many expensive chairs, no one ever sat in. Stood two unfamiliar faces. One woman, one man.

Chester greeted me the second I stepped out. “Little Mistress. These are the two individuals interested in the available units. Miss Fuyuki, and Mr. Kazu.”

The woman, dressed in a navy skirt suit, gave a graceful nod. The man, slightly older, wore a beige business jacket and a polite smile that looked like it had been worn out a long time ago.

“Thank you for having us,” Fuyuki said, composed.

“It’s an honor to be here,” Kazu added, eyes scanning the lobby like he’d just walked into a luxury hotel by mistake.

“Right. Couch,” I said, motioning to the oversized velvet sofa. “Sit.”

They obeyed.

I turned to Chester. “Tea.”

He nodded.

I took the armchair across from the couch. Reina stood behind me to the left, arms crossed, while trying to look important. Lunaria posted up to my right, crouched and narrowing her eyes like a guard dog, while still munching on a biscuit she found in her pocket.

Fuyuki looked at me, “It’s unusual for the landlady to meet tenants in person. I’m more used to getting a PDF and vague instructions to check under a potted plant.”

“...I live here,” I said.

There was a beat of silence before Kazu laughed softly, a little unsure. “Still, we appreciate it. The place is… impressive.”

I glanced around. Sure. If you're into cold marble, gold trim, and rooms that echo when you're alone.

“Occupation?” I asked, skipping the small talk.

“I work as an executive assistant,” Fuyuki said smoothly. “Mostly administrative. Scheduling. Coordination. That sort of thing.”

Kazu rubbed the back of his neck. “Salaryman. Mid-level staff at a logistics firm.”

I stared at him. He looked like an intern—just older, sadder, and with worse posture.

He gave a tired chuckle. “Black company. Long hours. Zero appreciation. I figured if I can’t quit, at least I can live somewhere peaceful and nice.”

Of course.

Chester returned, placing a silver tray on the table. Tea. Cookies shaped like tiny leaves. Fancy, overpriced, and entirely too fragile to fill anyone up. I didn’t touch them. Neither did Reina. Lunaria tried to take three at once before I slapped her hand.

“Rent is 1,000 yen per month,” I said.

They both blinked.

Fuyuki raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Did you mean… 100,000 yen?”

“Nope.”

There was a pause.

Kazu shifted slightly. “That’s... incredibly cheap,” he said slowly, like the sentence might trigger a hidden fee if he said it wrong.

I sighed. “Yeah. The form auto-filled the price when I made the listing. I meant to fix it, but then I got distracted watching a raccoon steal someone’s pizza on TikTok.”

Another pause.

“That… makes sense,” Kazu said, in the same tone people use when they're trying to sound supportive during a mental breakdown.

Fuyuki just nodded, expression unreadable.

“I figured if someone actually applied after seeing that number,” I continued, taking a long sip of tea, “they probably needed a home more than I needed the money.”

I lied.

I just didn’t feel like calculating a fair price. I typed ‘1,000’ and thought, eh, looks real enough.

Another pause.

Fuyuki nodded. “Well… if that’s the real price, we accept.”

“Good.”

I took a long sip of tea like that was the hardest part of my day.

“Do you need help moving your stuff in?” I asked.

“No, we’ll manage—” Kazu started.

“Reina can cast a weight reduction spell,” I said, cutting him off. “And Lunaria can lift a fridge if she doesn’t get distracted halfway through.”

“I once carried a vending machine!” Lunaria chimed in proudly.

“You didn’t,” I said.

“I dreamed it, but it felt real!”

Fuyuki blinked. “They… also live here?”

“They’re tenants,” I replied. “Among other things.”

Kazu gave a quiet laugh. “I was worried we’d be the weird ones.”

“Too late,” I said. “Welcome to the building.”

xXx

Boxes always look lighter until you try carrying them up three flights of stairs.

Luckily, no one here is that dumb.

We have an elevator. A sleek, stainless steel one that plays classical music, smells like imported citrus, and probably costs more in maintenance than my annual school tuition.

Naturally, Reina and Lunaria crammed themselves and all the luggage inside immediately.

I stood nearby, sipping bottled water, watching as the elevator doors tried to close three times before finally giving up and opening back again like a passive-aggressive sigh.

“Reina, move the box away from the sensor,” I said.

“It is away!” she snapped, nudging it one centimeter to the left.

The doors finally closed.

Inside, Fuyuki stood perfectly still in the corner like she was used to surviving rush hour in Tokyo. Kazu was sandwiched between two towers of boxes labeled “Snacks” and “Desk Lamp”. Lunaria crouched on top of one stack like an emotional support gremlin.

“You didn’t have to ride with the boxes,” Reina said flatly as the doors slid shut.

“I chose to,” Lunaria said proudly, still perched on top of the boxes like a gremlin queen.

xXx

I waited for the next elevator. No way I was squeezing into that sardine box with chaos and cardboard.

By the time I reached the second floor, they were already unloading.

Kazu’s boxes had collapsed across the hallway like a failed Tetris game.

“I’ll unpack eventually,” he said, taking a box labeled ‘Definitely not live bees.’

Reina froze. “Wait—why would you even write that?”

“It was a joke."

I took a step back. Just in case.

Lunaria shoved a stack toward his room. “I made it up here in one trip,” she bragged. “You may applaud.”

“You sat on the boxes the whole way,” Reina pointed out. “That doesn’t count.”

xXx

I rode the elevator up again.

On the third floor, Fuyuki’s setup looked like it belonged in a furniture catalog. Her two suitcases were neatly parked side by side, and the single cardboard box she brought sat on the hallway table. She explored the luxurious room with slow, thoughtful steps, pausing occasionally to test the light by holding up her hand or peeking into corners like she was mapping out potential desk placements.

“Suite C,” she said without looking up. “Good natural light. Practical choice.”

“Cold-themed girl wants the sunniest room,” Lunaria whispered behind me. “Plot twist.”

“I heard that,” Fuyuki said without turning.

I didn’t respond. I just stepped back out of her room and let the door close behind me with a soft click.

Out in the hallway, I leaned against the wall and sipped the last of my water.

From downstairs, Reina’s voice could be heard up the stairwell.

“—but if you eat ice cream with a fork, technically it’s a salad.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kazu’s voice followed, full of exhausted disbelief.

Somewhere else, Lunaria was probably pressing all the elevator buttons just to see what would happen.

xXx

By the time the sun started dipping, both new tenants had settled into their rooms.

Fuyuki’s suite on the third floor looked like she’d lived there for years, despite moving in ten minutes ago. Her suitcases were already stowed neatly in the corner. The curtains were drawn perfectly straight, not a wrinkle in sight. Her shoes sat lined up by the door, soles scrubbed clean, ready for the next workday.

Kazu’s room on the second floor was more of a... living-in-progress situation. One stack of boxes had become a makeshift desk, and his futon was only halfway unrolled. Yet, a single canned coffee stood proudly on the makeshift desk like a flag of survival.

“I’ll unpack tomorrow,” he said, flopping onto the floor like a man who had earned that right.

Tenants, huh?

Chester roped me into this mess.

And somehow… it’s working.